


Through A Glass, Darkly

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminal Minds Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood Magic, Cults, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Sex, Kidnapping, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Sansa gets abducted by a cult group and Jon gets involved - in more ways than one. They may be each other’s best - and only hope for a chance to escape and for redemption.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anon ask prompt for jonsa-creatives on Tumblr.
> 
> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Hi! If anyone is willing, could they please do a criminal minds au where Sansa is a victim of a crime, Jon is an agent and begins killing anyone who harmed her? And he gets away with it because he's smart enough not to get caught?
> 
> May get very dark so be warned. Or not, if that's your thing. That's all right with me!
> 
> *Unbeta'd and I am also not on the team of the Criminal Minds BAU so I know very little of their SOP, so pardon the mistakes!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

“So should I just start listing down reasons why you should stop moping about until you throw me out?”

Margaery’s melodic tone awoke Sansa with a start as she was carefully placing her paintbrushes away from the canvas she had been working on for weeks. “What? I’m not moping. It’s called art therapy. Expressing one’s pain and anguish through art is a form of therapy. Psychologist recommended.”

“Oh honey, I have no doubt what psychologists say about anything but this new hobby of yours.. as lovely as it is, my dear Sansa - is still not getting you out of the house. You need some fresh air. Also, your mom just called me yesterday to ask how you were doing. She hasn’t heard from you in a week, doll face.”

“Now that’s not how you want to make your mom feel now, do you?” Margaery continued, giving her a look all too familiar with Sansa. Guilt oozed out of every pore as the words came spilling past her lips.

Sansa sighed. It was true. Ever since Sansa received rejection letters after rejection letters from nearly all of the colleges she had her heart set on attending, things had taken a downward spin.  _Never good enough. Unsuitable. Better luck next time._  Sansa felt she was being slammed against a wall front, left, right and centre. She was angry, devastated, useless. Worst of all, she was disappointed.  _Apparently my best isn’t good enough._  She held out hope for one more letter to come through and it was the last one. Not that she was waiting on good news, she’d rather be done with all of it.  _Rip the band aid off. My future isn’t looking great, so just tell me now so I know what to do with it._

“No,” Sansa said quietly. She decided she would call her mother tomorrow. But tell her what? Of her failures? Not a great conversation topic but it’ll sure get her Mom talking. Sansa took a deep breath and shut her eyes for a moment, wondering how nice it would be if she could paint her future clearly on a canvas.

“Sans, she’s your mother. Talk to her. You have to,” Margaery persuaded as she sat on the floor next to Sansa. Sansa leaned her head onto the slender shoulder for support. “I will. I just want to give her good news that’s all.”

Sansa wished she could be as bubbly and charming as Margaery, living a worry free, happy go lucky life, running her family’s vineyard and winery alongside Grammy Olenna, the Tyrell matriarch. Margaery’s life was a perpetual summer vacation. Or a make up commercial.  _Bright, breezy, beautiful._  But course, then again, it wasn’t what she wanted. Sansa was a Stark. The Starks were pillars of the community and it was in her blood, the desire to help others and make the world a better place. Or at least the North. And maybe University of Westeros would be a good place to help her start on her political science path, just as any. If only they would send the bloody letter soon.

“Anyway, enough of that. So since you’re so into your art lately, one of my clients is looking for a model for their still life classes. Apparently, they own the art studio on the corner of 39th. Like you said, therapy? Well sort of I guess. I don’t know really. Told them, you might be interested. What do you think? Are you?”

Sansa had walked that street countless times and had no idea there stood an art studio. Except for a nondescript dark paned frontage that seemed empty and permanently closed. “I suppose. I mean I get paid right? Not some art experiment, I hope.”

“Gosh I don’t know much about these things. But yeah, heard it pays good money. I’ll send you the details.”

* * *

Sansa looked around again. King’s Road South 39th Street. It was the third time she went round the block, following all the signs - and they kept leading her to the same spot that held the black tinted glassed shop she often wondered about.  _I guess this is the one._

Sansa took a deep breath and pushed the handle of the glass door. It opened, to her surprise.

It appeared as what she expected, bare walls, half painted with splats of different hues as if whoever owned it was still experimenting and deciding on a colour scheme. Ceilings were undone with wirings still hanging loose and large pieces of cloth that seemed to cover some kind of furniture sat neatly lined along the walls. _Must be the art pieces_ , Sansa thought and perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have a look, as she made her way to a corner that had something peek out from underneath.

“Those aren’t ready yet. We’re still unfortunately undecided on the colour scheme so please, pardon the ugly walls,” a female voice sounded out from behind her that made Sansa jump out of her skin.

“Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! My bad, I’m just here for the art class.. my friend, Margaery-”

“Ah yes, Margaery! You must be Sansa?” the lady smiled this time and immediately Sansa sighed in relief.

“Yes, she told me you needed a model?”

“Yes, we do. And I think… You’ll suit perfectly. Please, call me Mel,” the lady in red, offered her hand and another smile that Sansa returned shyly.

“Nice to meet, you. I’m Sansa. I..was given this address. I had no idea this was an art studio. I mean.. This place is huge. It’ll make a great art gallery,” Sansa gingerly introduced herself and continued with some small conversation to help settle her bumbling nerves. She smiled again, hoping the ‘off’ feeling that tugged at her ribs would go away, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

“Hmm.. I suppose it will, once they know what to do with it. I don’t own it actually, I’m just here to run things. Well whatever that needs running here for now, at least. Come sit here, you look nervous. Is this your first time modelling for a still life art class?”

Sansa nodded. And she didn’t mind the money. Sitting down still and getting paid for it sounded easy enough.

“Ah, don’t worry, it’s really easy, just sit and … Well, sit. And pose. Let the artists bring out their art from you. So, I suppose I’m right to say that you don’t mind if some of these portraits may be.. in the nude?”

Sansa had a few things figured out about the art world, after having delved into it for some weeks, that the human body was indeed already a piece of art by itself and nudity was one of the best ways to capture its beauty essence. And Sansa agreed with the idea. Besides, to be envisioned and immortalised as some kind of muse provided her self esteem a much needed boost. Her confidence had been lacking no thanks to the rejection letters she was inundated with recently.

“Yes, I’m aware and since I’m dabbling in a little art myself, I am on board with the idea. Also, I mean, I am after all an adult,” Sansa gave a small nervous chuckle and immediately regretting it, hoping Mel would dismiss her feeble attempt at a joke. _Stop talking, you dimwit._

“Ah that’s good to know! Well, I suppose we should be starting soon. Why don’t I get you something to drink, first? To relax a little. Some tea, perhaps?”

Sansa loved tea. That would help calm her nerves, in case she needed to appear nude in front of strangers staring at her face and body for hours on end. “Oh yes please!”

Mel stepped behind another wall and came back not long after with a pretty teacup in her hand.  _Huh, that was quick._

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind some that I made a few minutes ago. I hope you like it, it’s quite exotic, a tea I got from Bali,” Mel handed Sansa a cup of steaming dark amber liquid that had the strong smell of herbs. Indeed it smelled quite heady. “Wow, Bali. Sounds wonderful already, I’m sure I will.”

“So do you have any questions for me, Sansa, before we begin?”

“I suppose the usual questions but I can ask them later, it’s not too much of a concern,” Sansa shrugged as she pressed her lips on the cup and tasted the tea. It was hot on her tongue, tangy yet sweet and the perfumed notes that wafted into her nostrils were making Sansa mind spin a little, feeling almost faint. _Wow, this is some tea._

“Ah, yes sure that is possible too. If you don’t mind, I have one for you. Are you by any chance… Sansa Stark, daughter of Ned Stark?”

For some reason, Sansa couldn’t quite hear all of a sudden and the sounds that came out of Mel’s mouth were floating in and out of her ears, as if someone was adjusting the volume knob on a speaker. Sansa wondered if maybe she didn’t eat enough breakfast earlier that morning and was starting to feel light headed.

“Why, yes… Yes… I am..” were the last words she heard herself utter.

Before everything went to black.

* * *

Sansa blinked and let out a groan. Her head was spinning and the room seemed to move with it even though she laid very still. Opening her eyes, Sansa could barely make out where she was.  _The art gallery…_

“Hey..” a voice whispered close to her. Sansa tried her best to turn and find the voice and where it was coming from. But her whole body seemed to be drowned in quick sand and it didn’t move as her brain commanded it to.  _Where am I?  
_

“Hey.. look at me,” the whispers became more urgent and Sansa could hear it coming from just beside her. She turned her whole body towards the voice and blinked again. A face seemed to take form but it was one she couldn’t recognise.

“Hey, missy.. thank fucking god you’re alive. I thought you were almost dead or something,” the face spoke, this time the features becoming more and more defined.  _A face_ , Sansa thought -  _grey eyes, black curly hair, full lips, a light stubble;_  Sansa took mental notes on who she was really looking at, whether it was anyone she knew so she could make sense of what was going on. Her head was too sore to recall anything that happened even mere moments ago. Though her body groaned as if she had been there for some time. Why was she feeling this way?

“It’ll go away after you sleep it off. Looks like they gave you a small dose, watched you toss and turn, groaning away every five minutes,” the voice continued and answered her as if he read her mind. Sansa wanted this thing, whatever that was making her feel like this, to go away now. So she could go home and call her mother.  _Oh Mama, I’m so sorry._

“What… What did they gave me.. who’s they..” Sansa barely managed a whisper as the words scraped past her throat like sandpaper. She needed a drink of water soon if she wanted to keep talking. Sansa swallowed to wet her parched pipes.

“Shhh.. keep it down, missy.. can’t let them hear you now. Listen, what they gave you, why you’re feeling this way - it’s a drug, to keep you dazed and disoriented. They give it in small doses each time but I guess the body can get used to it after a while.. mine has.”

_Drug? But why.._

“Sansa..”

“What’s that?” the young man’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to her, his face now crystal clear.

“My name.. it’s Sansa.”

She watched and waited for a response but only saw the man’s face twist into a frown and eyes widening at her admission.

“Sansa… Stark?”

Sansa was too bewildered to ask why people were so interested in her name. He head ached again at the thought and Sansa kept silent. If he didn’t want to introduce himself, so be it.  _So, I’m a Stark. Why is everyone asking if I’m actually one?_

Sansa shook off the intrigue. First things first, she needed to be able to at least stand up. Next, to find out where she was. And lastly, to get the hell out and get home. Or at least she could try and figure out all of the above, with or without him.

But one thing was definite, the sickening gnaw that grew stronger by each moment of clarity - a blood curdling dread that pooled in the pit of her stomach.

“Jon. I’m Jon Snow.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is forced to get to know her cellmate - if she wants to come out of this nightmare alive. A little too much than she bargained for and it is nothing she had ever experienced before, thanks to compromised food and imposed inhibitions.

Jon Snow. She’s heard that name before. Or seen it somewhere. Whatever it was, her memory was not at its best for anything for the moment. All she wanted was to get on her feet, and Sansa prayed her body would cooperate.

Faint voices drifted in and out and the room she was in bore a sickly sweet odour in the air, that brought to mind of too much incense that was left to burn and forgotten. The room was mainly dark but lit by large candles in various corners of the room. The eerie reddish glow did not help the fear that was growing in her. The only one that didn’t seem to perturbed by all of it was Jon, who was sitting opposite of her and watching her with a mix of interest and concern. A slight shimmer caught her eye and Sansa’s eyes drifted to Jon’s ankles. She drew in a sharp breath and gasped when it dawned on her.  _Ankle cuffs. Chains. No, please, don’t let it be me._  Sansa looked down on her own hands and feet, panic now rearing its claws and in a scream that sat at the edge of her lips.

But a strong pull yanked her out of it and Sansa found herself inches away from Jon’s face, his breath warm on her.

“I know what you’re thinking. But don’t. Please, don’t. If you want to come out of this alive, I suggest you play along. Stay close to me. We’re in this together now. Do as I say. Please, it’s for your own good.”

His hand were calloused and warm, pressing down over her mouth. Sansa nodded and shivered in fear but somehow her body welcomed his touch. She was trembling from the cold too, as it hit her skin with goosebumps. Apart from the chains around her wrists and ankles, Sansa realised she had on a thin robe, with nothing underneath. And noticed how Jon, was dressed just as sparsely, clad in dark trousers that were stained, as if he had been rolling in the dirt the whole day.

“Good. Now they’ll be coming here any minute so just lay there, keep your eyes closed, like just now. Pretend you’re still out. They won’t be able to do anything if you’re unconscious,” Jon whispered, setting some kind of plan in motion. Sansa nodded again. Jon seemed to know what he was doing, as he loosened his grip on her finally and made a sign for her to lie down. Sansa watched as Jon turned his attention towards an opening of the room they were in, as if waiting for something. Sansa laid down and tried to breathe as normally as she could and shut her eyes, as she heard shuffling that was getting louder and closer by the minute.

The shuffling noises continued, a rustle of skirts and shoes and the heavy breathing of a crowd entered the room. The air suddenly became very hot and tense as Sansa could hear the laboured breathing of Jon next to her.

Silence. Then, a thud on the floor close to her. Sansa almost flinched but stayed very still.

“Well, well. Have you been playing with your new toy, Jon?” a male voice, deep and filled with disdain, spoke out loud. She never heard that voice before.

“Do you like her? We picked her specially for you. Red hair, pale skin, blue eyes. Just like you asked.”

“You fucker, I didn’t ask for this! You took her, you sick fucks!” Jon screamed in vehement objection. Sansa shut her eyes tightly as a tear rolled off her cheek.

“Oh you did. Well, more like we found out. But, tell me, do you like her? Because if we don’t, you know what to do with girls we don’t need?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Tsk, tsk.. so what will it be?” the voice continued taunting him and Sansa could sense a presence standing nearer and nearer to her.

“Don’t fucking touch her! I swear I’ll kill you myself!”

The voice started to laugh hysterically at Jon’s threats and Sansa felt the presence move away from her.

“So you do like her! Good, we hit the jackpot!”

“Stop fucking around! Now we have her, it’s time,” another voice chimed in, this time female and authoritarian. It was another voice Sansa did not recognise.

“Yes, yes it is. But looks like she’s still out. We need her sober for the night of the blood moon. For it to work. We can’t do anything tonight.”

“Who says we need to wait? We have him.”

“No, no. They need to be up and conscious. And together. We can’t do anything yet.”

“Who said anything about us doing anything? Make him… wake her up. Do it!”

Sansa’s heart raced and the pounding was deafening in her ears. Should she remain still as Jon had ordered or get up and face her abductors? What was she going to do then, bound and shackled like some kind of an animal?

“Ah, yes of course! Would you, Jon? Wake up our little princess? I’m sure you have your ways,” the voice turned back to Jon once more.  _Please, say no._

“I’m not touching her!”

“Don’t be such a prude, we know you’re not, Jon Snow. Do it or we’ll do it for you. Now, what will it be?”

Sansa felt Jon stir violently next to her but his hand stealthily gripping her arm. She remained still.

“This is so fucking boring! Waiting for these two! Let’s just kill them and be done with it!” another voice interrupted, this time younger and petulant.

“Silence! You fool! We’ve worked so hard to get where we are and killing them now does nothing! Nothing! The blood moon is in three days and we will wait till then to finish the job. Sober or not, they will do as they’re told! Or they will die,” the voice of the older male boomed in anger.

“Ugh, he’s right. This is fucking boring me. I have a city to run. Let’s end and wrap this up tonight. Same time tomorrow,” the female voice had finally decided for them. Sansa did not know how many people were in the room but judging by the hushed muttering, it was probably a good four or five of them hovering above her and Jon. Soon, the shuffling was heard again and Jon released his grip on her. “See you two lovebirds tomorrow then. And you bet, I’m going to do things to her if you’re not going to. So if you don’t want that, do as you’re told, Jon Snow. And you might want to prepare her for that.”

The message sent chills to her very bone. Whatever they were going to do, Sansa wished she was already dead. It was better than having to endure torture.

The shuffling returned shortly once more before the air became silent, save for Jon’s heavy breathing.

“They’re gone. You can get up now, Sansa.”

“Jon, please tell me who are they! What are they going to do to me? To us?”

Sansa pleaded, her eyes welling up with tears.  _I don’t want to die_.

“Honestly, I don’t know, Sansa. All I know is they’re sick fucks who sacrifice in the name of some god in return for what they want. I don’t know what that takes but all I know is they have you and me. And somehow we’re important to them. For now.”

Sansa didn’t like the sound of it. What does a simple girl from the North have anything that they want? She was new in town even, and barely knew anyone since she moved south with Margaery.

“You asked me about my name. Why?”

Jon shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know, I thought I heard your name once before. Sounded familiar.”

Just as his was to her. Sansa was now intrigued by this connection.

“Jon how long have they kept you here?”

Jon turned to her, in a stare that made her eyes tear again.

“I can’t remember, Sansa. All I remember was going for a hike, I got lost from my group and found this old house. And then everything just went dark. That’s about all I remembered. I don’t even know what today is. Could be my birthday. Maybe not. Feels like I’ve been here a long time.”

“Haven’t you tried to escape then?”

Jon chuckled, tickled at the thought. “Sansa, don’t you think I’ve tried? But they have a guard dog out there, seven feet tall and as big as a barge. He gave me a good thrashing, within inches of my life when I tried to escape. From then on, I just stayed where they keep me. I wanted to kill myself but every time I tried, they revived me. Kept me alive for some reason. I didn’t understand why then but I guess I know the reason why now.”

Sansa listened to every word he said. “Why then? What’s the reason?”

Jon paused and looked down, blinking as if trying to gather his thoughts. Sansa needed answers and she needed them now. “Tell me, Jon!”

“You. They kept me for you.”

Sansa bit her lip in frustration. It didn’t make sense. She had no idea who these people were, much less Jon Snow. She had rarely travelled anywhere in her nineteen years of life, except for the Riverlands to visit her granduncle Brynden over a few Christmases. The only friends she ever hung out with were Margaery and Theon, Robb’s classmate. That was it. She had no property, no riches, nothing of value to her name.

_My name. The Stark name. But why?_

“But that’s ridiculous! I don’t even know you, or them! I have nothing to give them!”

“Well, they thought different then.”

Sansa could only pray and hope that a search party was already underway looking for her. Whoever was responsible would pay for this.

“You did good. They didn’t try anything and I’m glad they left before anything happened.”

“What were they planning for us to… do, Jon?”

Jon turned to her again, this time his eyes darker and slightly gleamed with intent. “Well. If I’m to guess correctly, they want us to… mate.”

Sansa shrank back from Jon and the chains rattled from her recoil.

“What? To mate?”

“Yes, Sansa. To fuck. Under some stupid moon or some fucked up shit. Draw blood, I don’t fucking know!”

“I know what mating is! But I can’t! I could never-”

“Wait a minute… You’ve never..?” Jon stared at her, with the same expression he wore when her asked her name.

Sansa shook her head, her tears flowing freely now.

“Fuck! I swear I’m gonna kill those sons of bitches! They knew all of this! They planned all of it! How rich! A virgin, how fucking original!” Jon ranted and rambled furiously, when he realised why Sansa was truly there.

“Jon, please.. I’m scared. I don’t want to die, oh God. Please Jon,” Sansa pleaded in between wracking sobs. She was now tugging on him and drew closer, seeking comfort. She needed to be held, even if meant that was the last time. Jon’s arms opened to welcome her and Sansa laid her head on his shoulders. He was certainly a wonderful heat source and a great comforter. Sansa held on for as long as she could, onto this strange man’s body, that her own was slowly warming up to.

“Shhh.. you won’t, I promise. Whatever happens, you’ll be okay I promise. Just stay close to me, do as I tell you, no matter what.”

“I’ll do anything you say, I promise. Please just help me get out.”

* * *

Sansa slowly came to and rubbed her eyes. Her head was slowly bobbing up and down, in rhythm with the slow heaving of a chest she had laid on while asleep. The room was considerably brighter and Sansa could only assume it was morning. Her stomach growled when the scent of bacon hit her nostrils. And true enough, a full tray of food and drinks sat near where they slept and Sansa lunged at it without much of a thought.

“No, hold on,” an arm raised up to restrain her. Sansa was hungry and desperate enough to bite Jon’s arm. “They might have drugged the food. Let me try a bit and see.”

Jon sat up and pinched a bit of the toast to put in his mouth. Sansa watched in hunger. A man’s mouth never looked so tantalising.

“I think it’s safe, go on.”

There was no need for Jon to repeat twice when Sansa dived in and almost inhaled half of the food on her plate. As she slowed down, it was peculiar how good the food tasted, even the juice that came with the tray was freshly pressed. She would know, living with Margaery also meant being fed good quality food on the regular. Sansa knew how quality tasted like. These people, her abductors weren’t ordinary psychopaths. They were definitely well to do, to be able to lavish such spread on their prisoners.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sansa. It’s strange to me too, I know. Why would sick fucks like them give such fantastic food to their prisoners? I figured they wanted to make sure I.. well, we would be healthy and fit for what they want to do with us. ‘Without blemish or sickness’ he said to me once.”

“But you warned me about drugs in them,” Sansa asked, curious about Jon’s story. She was sure there was more to it than what he had shared.

“I don’t know, there were times, I felt weird after eating them. Like this warm feeling, made me want to do things but I don’t remember if I did any. It just made me feel strange and all. But most times, it didn’t.”

Sansa put down the apple she was taking a bite of. She wondered if there was a bucket she could throw up in. At least before the drug could begin having any effects.

“There’s a bathroom there… If you need it,” as if he heard her thinking out loud, Jon pointed out to a portable toilet a good distance away from them. But these chains..

“But, how?”

“The chains are long enough. I should know.”

_Such hospitality._

“Like I said, they are sick fucks and weird for making sure their prisoners are clean, healthy and well fed. I bet purity has something to do with it. A clean offering to the fucking gods.”

Sansa could use a shower, offering or not, whatever gods, know how long she had gone without one.

Sansa could only smile and resumed eating her apple, whilst watching Jon nibble on a piece of bacon. For what it was worth, Jon was a handsome young man. He had arresting features, dark and striking. He was around her age and fit, who probably possessed a pleasant demeanor, if it wasn’t for the circumstances they were both in. Jon smiled back, watching her watching him with interest. Sansa shyly turned away. It had only been one night and here she was blushing furiously at the attention a boy shackled next to her, was giving. Truth be told, she never really had boys look her way, they were mostly drawn to Margaery and her flirty personality. Not that she minded, Sansa was too focused on her ambition and life’s purpose to be distracted by anything else. _So much for ambition._

Sansa took a sip of her juice and sat down, pressing her knees to her chest. Her robe was now sheer enough to see through, with the light that bathed the room. Sansa looked around her, surveying the space - it was a more like a cell, with rings deeply drilled into the floor in the centre that held the chains both Jon and her were strapped in. In another corner was a thin mattress and beside it a shelf filled with books. It was all very strange how well furnished the cell appeared to be. It looked weirdly comfortable and cozy. True enough, as Jon mentioned, their chains were long enough to move around anywhere in the room, except to the door. Which was a large metal frame, with large slots at the top and bottom of it. Sansa wondered if there were cameras watching them, as she couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that there were eyes on her and them.

Sansa suddenly felt her own eyes grow weary and her insides gently but quickly warming up. Sansa took a deep breath and exhaled the feeling away, owing it to digestion fatigue. Perhaps it would feel better if she had laid down.

“Jon, I’m feeling a little sleepy. Think I ate too much too fast. May I lie down on your bed?” Sansa asked politely, pointing to the mattress. Jon chuckled at Sansa’s displaced courtesies. _Even in captivity, a lady_. “By all means.”

Sansa grinned and stood up to walk, her chains rattling noisily behind her, to a mattress slightly stained with dirt and dust. Laying her head, it felt like heaven after who knew how long she had been sprawled on the cold hard floor and Sansa almost smiled in spite of the situation. She would make the best of it, whatever  _it_  was. Two days later would determine her fate, and hopefully by then, Sansa would already be rescued. She could dream it at least. The warmth inside her grew stronger and soon, an ache suddenly stirred in her loins.It was a wonderfully strange feeling, as if it was an itch on the inside that needed to be scratched. A small moan escaped her lips as Sansa revelled in the comfort of the mattress. She didn’t know what drove her to make that sound but she was exhausted now. As she closed her eyes to sleep, Sansa prayed quietly, for her to wake up to a different reality than the one she was in now.

* * *

Drifting in and out of consciousness, the bed was moving with weight shifting around her and Sansa’s eyes slowly fluttered open and close. A piece of fabric hung over her thighs and Sansa felt her knees being slowly parted, with a feverish touch that stroked the length of her legs. Sansa whimpered, this time at fingers caressing the insides of her thigh and slowly making their way down to the sensitive tissues in between her legs.

“Sansa..” she heard her name being chanted repeatedly. She was too weak to object to this gentle handling of her body, unabashedly enjoying the ecstasy it all brought her.

“Uhhh…”

As the fingers continued their passage all over her thighs, stomach and buttocks, Sansa gripped the edge of the mattress, as a wet touch teased her nipples and suckled on her breasts. A mouth clamped shut on one breast while a hand massaged the other and Sansa squirmed at the pleasure that burned inside of her. “Oh, god Sansa.. you’re perfect..”

“Uhh.. kiss me,” Sansa demanded albeit weakly, overcome by her senses. A stubble grazed her chin as a mouth moved towards hers and smothered it, with its tongue parting her lips. He tasted slightly sour, with a hint of orange on his lips and that scent… His scent was unmistakable.  _Jon. What is happening…_

Before she could call his name, his mouth moved down to her neck and chest, licking the salt of her skin and nibbling at bits of her which only made her wet in between her legs. His hands returned to her breasts, squeezing handfuls greedily and pinching her nipples, rousing her further.

“I want to fuck you so bad… The food… Something was in the food… It makes me so…God, I want you so much, I can hardly breathe,” Jon whispered to her, his breath hot on her skin. Sansa gasped, there was an erotic and sensous charge that hung in the air, it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. If Jon wanted to fuck her, she wouldn’t say no. Despite the fact that she should.

“Then… Fuck.. me,” Sansa answered back prodding him on. If she was going to die, she might as well enjoy her last days. His mouth came back to hers and Sansa moaned as his fingers reached her quim, now wet and ready for him. Sansa hissed as three of his fingers slowly parted her folds and pushed their way in and pulled out. Sansa gripped his wrist, gasping at the amazing sensation.

“I can’t… I want to but I can’t..” Jon said, as his hands came to an abrupt stop and gradually left her. Sansa opened her eyes in indignation, only to be greeted by Jon’s who were intensely staring back. “Why not… You are going to have to anyway…”

Jon kissed her forehead and tucked away a stray lock behind her ears. “Yes, you’re right but if I do, we could get killed. For not listening. I can’t risk that.”

Sansa pulled his face to hers and devoured his lips, their tongues quickly intertwined and jostled about as they drank in all they had to offer to each other. Sansa never knew a kiss could be like that and Jon did it so well. It was sexy and affectionate. Lustful yet gentle. Whatever drug that was in the food, Sansa hoped its effects would last the whole night. She could continue kissing him for that long.

“I don’t think it’s the drug that’s making me want this, Jon,” Sansa mumbled in between her kisses. Jon paused and smiled at her. “Good.”

Sansa often told herself that she wasn’t a believer in love at first sight. But maybe, just maybe, being kidnapped and cuffed in chains to a man like Jon Snow, might change her mind. 


End file.
